There wasn’t time for a proper handshake. The instant that Krista’s smaller fingers touched Erin’s open palm, Krista withdrew her hand as rapidly as if Erin’s touch were white-hot. Erin found herself standing with her open palm suspended in midair and an astonished expression of disbelief disturbing her features. Was the girl always so rude, or did she just dislike Erin?

Rather than commenting on Krista’s complete lack of courtesy, or asking about Krista’s negative reaction to her, Erin forced herself to remain calm and hang on to the dwindling amount of control she had left. Excusing herself, she turned her attention back to the kitchen and preparation of the meal. She could hear the quiet reprimand that Kane was giving his daughter, but Erin tried to ignore the tension between father and daughter—tension that she somehow felt guilty about. Perhaps she shouldn’t have intruded on the homecoming. It was obvious that Krista would have preferred that she had never met Erin.

As Erin extracted the platter of warm rolls from the oven, she tried to convince herself that she was overreacting to Krista’s indifference. After all, the girl was a cripple and probably extremely self-conscious about her condition. Aside from the obvious, it couldn’t be easy moving away from the only family and friends she had ever known to start a new life with a father she barely knew in an unfamiliar city. It was no wonder that the child was frightened and misbehaving. Give the girl a chance, Erin told herself. It’s barely been a year since the young girl witnessed her mother’s death. Armed with a new sense of conviction, Erin decided to ignore Krista’s coolness.

As she carried the meal to the table, Erin forced herself to smile and say, “Let’s get started. I bet you’re both hungry!”

“We ate on the plane!” Krista announced, and Kane threw his daughter a grim reproving glance. Krista ignored it.

“That we did,” Kane acknowledged, “but that was several hours ago, and it wasn’t particularly good.” His steely eyes never left his daughter—it was as if he dared her to act up again. “As I recall, you didn’t eat much.” The muscle cords in his neck stood out clearly against the collar of his shirt, and Erin could tell that he was holding on to the rags of his patience. He was about to explode. Erin hoped that Krista realized how dangerous the situation was becoming.

Erin tried to steady her rapidly disintegrating nerves as she went back to the kitchen for the rest of the food. She couldn’t gloss over it, not even to herself. For some reason Krista was determined to hate her. Erin mentally counted to ten, took several deep breaths, and once again poised, returned to face father and daughter. It took a lot of determination, but she was able to hide her discomfort and take some pleasure in serving the dishes that she had so meticulously prepared, although Krista’s discriminating eye took a little of the satisfaction away from her. Though the aroma of the food was tantalizing, and the marmalade-glazed game hens looked delicious as they sat on a platter of steaming wild rice and mushrooms, the meal was tense and uncomfortable. Everything seemed to have soured slightly under Krista’s disapproving blue-eyed gaze.